Through A Mirror Darkly, Pt3
by Nemo Blank
Summary: Events after the ending of Through A Mirror Darkly.
1. Default Chapter

**Through a Mirror Darkly, Pt 3.**

T'Pol lay on the bunk, racked with despair. Again and again she went over her actions and tried to understand how she could have gambled away her people's future so recklessly. Now Archer would become Emperor. Archer never forgot a slight and he would never forgive her people her rebellion. Someday soon Vulcan would perish under _Defiant's_ huge phaser banks. She was helpless to prevent it.

Turning to face the wall, she shivered. The Humans in this universe were beasts. War was their birthright and weakness universally despised.

Admittedly, Vulcan history was also dark in this universe. All of the subject nations of the Terran Empire had far bloodier histories than their extradimensional counterparts. The Surak of _Defiant's_ universe had never ordered the massacre of the dissenters. There had never been a Tellurian conquest. The Rape of Klinghazi had never occurred, or the Ferengi Genocide. Vulcan had much to answer for long before the Terrans had burst free of their solar system and begun their relentless assault on the universe.

Tossing fitfully, she turned again. The bunk was padded, but she couldn't get comfortable. Ironically, it was too soft. Only the Federation would pad the bunk in a prison cell. The Terran Empire wouldn't have bothered with a bunk. Prisoners could sleep on the cold duralloy deck or not at all.

She had been a fool to imagine that a government with similar principles to those of the United Federation of Planets could be brought into existence in this benighted universe. The fact that many of the people were identical in appearance and similar in their job functions did not mean that the societies were at all compatible. There had to be a difference in the two universes, a difference that went beyond circumstance. Something fundamentally skewed.

_She_ was different. Darker than her counterpart. Cold and calculating by nature, not just because she was forced by her environment. T'Pol had consistently chosen the low road when given the opportunity to choose. Morality had never been permitted to infect the meticulous logic by which she pursued her goals.

Instead ofsoliciting Commander Tucker's willing cooperation, she had used overwhelming mental force to complete the bonding and then mind-raped him, brutally and repeatedly. He had been no better than her slave for months. She had used him without remorse and he had suffered terribly for it. It had taken all of her discipline to mute the waves of agony crashing over her through the bond when he had been in detention. Her marvelous discipline had enabled her to act with the utmost cruelty without feeling either enjoyment or sorrow, exactly as her universe's twisted version of Surak had taught.

The other T'Pol's logic had been leavened by a concept called IDIC, a doctrine of which the Vulcans of this poor universe had never heard. The concept of IDIC was the jewel in the crown of the United Federation of Planets and served as the philosophical basis of the multi-racial society. Lies were an abomination and the logic of peace was thoroughly proven.

Logic without IDIC was merely an excuse for cruelty without sadism.

Her counterpart had openly married her version of Commander Tucker. They had produced three beautiful children and had lived an idyllic life together on the colony world of New Arcadia for the remainder his lifespan. T'Pol Tucker had never married again after his death, choosing to pursue a career in temporal physics instead.

T'Pol opened her eyes and stared at the brightly lit ceiling. She would never know such contentment. She would be gang-raped by the MACO's, then brutally executed in the foulest, most humiliating way that they could devise. Commander Tucker would feel her terror through the bond after they broke her will and be compelled to attack them. He would die too, uselessly, and there was nothing that she could do about it.

Despair finally penetrated her cold emptiness as her logic crumbled. She did not deserve to live. Neither did her people. Vulcans without IDIC were nothing more than a contemptible race of psychopaths, coldly calculating the odds. Without an investment of faith in something greater than themselves, they were unable to muster the courage or compassion of their counterparts.

She recalled a picture that she had seen in Defiant's database.

T'Pol Tucker stood holding her daughter, her husband's arm encircling them. The small family was gazing at each other with identical expressions that could only be described as requited love.

Love. Had such a thing ever existed in this foul place, even in potential? Why had she chosen the Commander over her fellow Vulcans cursed to serve Enterprise? He was attractive to be sure, and he was a good ally for her patron, Captain Forrest. Tucker had also pursued her relentlessly from the first moment that he had seen her. She had dreamed of him and it was to him that she had gone when the microbes had brought on her premature Pon Farr. Instead of making him truly hers as her counterpart had, her twisted false logic had compelled her to subordinate his needs to hers, to use him to achieve her goals, subjecting him to the most brutal torture imaginable. Now everything was over for her but her upcoming ordeal.

Silently, she began to weep for what she could never have. Love was beyond her reach, as was trust and life itself.

The ostensibly locked door abruptly hissed open, overridden from the outside.

The guard on duty sprang to his feet, clawing desperately for his phase pistol, but a Federation phaser beam struck him and his form shimmered into vapor, melting away into the subatomic realm.

Commander Tucker stepped deliberately into the brig, the door closing behind him. The brig alarm systems had been overridden from the main computer core and the guards stationed outside of the door phasered without warning. He was alone with the Vulcan bitch. At least she had quit clawing at his mind.

Standing in front of the cell, he glared at her through the shimmer of the force field. So much for those vaunted Vulcan ears. She hadn't noticed his arrival or the guard's abrupt 'departure.' Not that anyone would worry overmuch about that. There were always more MACO's to replace the losses.

Peering closely at her, he saw the minute shaking of her shoulders and smirked. She was crying like a baby. A human baby.

"Ah told you that you'd regret betrayin' me."

T'Pol rolled over and stared at him with wet eyes. "I regret many things." Her voice was unsteady.

Tucker frowned at the emotion in her voice. Unless she was really scared, she had rarely shown as much emotion as the ship's computer. "Ah thought that you Vulcans didn't go in for regret." Tucker's hard, raspy voice pronounced 'Vulcans' with a particularly accusatory inflection.

"Are you here to kill me? If so then do not hesitate." T'Pol looked at the phaser and felt peace. Maybe she could atone for her career as a rapist by giving him a sense of closure.

Tucker smiled coldly. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? I kill you, go crazy from this mindscrew of yours and then go kill myself. Instant revenge eh, T'Pol? Very logical." His smile turned into a snarl. "Git the hell outta my head, Woman! Let me go!"

T'Pol did something that she had never allowed herself to do before. She fully opened herself to the bond, feeling his overwhelming, sick horror at her psychic manipulations. Her unchecked despair had weighed him down to the point that it had almost destroyed him. Suicide had seemed a good choice but he had killed the guards instead. He was bluffing, unable to pull the trigger on her.

"I cannot. We are bonded. If you go to sickbay and sedate yourself you will survive my defilement and execution with minimal affect. The bond will eventually pass and you will recover. I am… sorry. There are no words." T'Pol stood, radiating her regret and sorrow. She reached forlornly toward him, but burned her hand on the force field.

Tucker jerked. "Stop that!" Pacing, glaring at her and rubbing his hand, he finally had to speak. "I _know_ what you were thinkin' about earlier. Me an' you are quite an item on the other side of the mirror. I read some of Trip's diary in the database. They call him Trip, you know." He halted, narrowing his eyes at her. "I don't believe it though. No one could really be that happy. I think she's got him all messed up in the head, just like you got me. Poor bastard thinks he's eatin' steak, but he's really got a big ol' shitpot full of Vulcan lies on the table in front of him."

Stung, T'pol finally got mad. "That is untrue. T'Pol loves Trip with all of her being. She and he meld for extended periods and their bond grew to be one of the most durable on record. It is nothing like the perversions and violations that you have endured at my hands. I am merely a rapist and you are my victim. They are our better halves and now that I know of their existence I no longer wish to lead this empty life or to inhabit this flawed universe."

Tucker snorted. "Think its Candy-Land over there, Girl? They got just as many bastards around them as we do." He sneered. "They aren't that all-fired perfect, either. They did their share of dirty work in the Expanse. The only difference is that they get to be the 'good guys' and no one backstabs them for it like they would here."

Tuckerfrowned. "To do the right thing here, you'd have to kill off a whole lot of people first."

T'Pol considered, then agreed. "The roster of personnel serving aboard their Enterprise was nearly identical ours. Virtually all of the people that I have met aboard our Enterprise were listed as Enterprise crew or common visitors. The difference between our societies is not genetic, or one of simple historical circumstance. At this rate of statistical variance our universes should have long since diverged into complete incompatibility."

Tucker's face twisted in disgust. "Tell me about it. I saw a picture of myself _hugging_ that limey sonuvabitch Reed. Almost pooped my pants." Tucker shuddered. "Even worse, 'Trip' worships that creepy bastard Archer. Calls him his 'best friend.' Watches _water polo_ with him." Tucker shook his head in amazement. "Water Polo. Can you believe it? What kind of man watches water polo, especially with a shit-heel like Archer?"

Tuckerfrowned, unable to hide his fascination. He had no friendsat all. His engineering crewmen were his subordinates. He was friendly when he could be, but he could never truly be their friends. His counterpart had many, many friends. Almost everyone that Trip Tucker knew was his friend. His funeral had been moved to a stadium because of the enormous crowd.

Charles Tucker wished forlornly that he could have some friends. It had been an impulse that he had suppressed in order to make rank. Only ruthlessness and cold competence could advance an officer's career in the Empire.

T'Pol wiped a tear away. "They are indeed very different people. Lieutenant Reed was Trip's best man at our- their wedding. Captain Archer gave the bride away." T'Pol sighed, imagining it. "They are beings of a better quality than we can aspire to become."

Trip snorted. "I think this whole universe is just a giant ant farm. Some damned devil made this place as a copy of them and then screwed it all up. Probably thinks it's funny to compare us lowdown turds with the real thing."

T'Pol turned away, a fresh wave of despair filling her. He was so lonely that he would even talk with her, his betrayer. It was unendurably pathetic. "I agree. There is intelligent design evident in the close correspondance of this imperfect copy with the universe of the Federation.Thus, a designer is implied. I no longer wish to participate in that being'sexperiment. I have no further purpose here. Please, for your own good, spare me the torture. I will suppress our bond and you may end my life swiftly with the phaser. The psychic damage will be minimal."

Tucker sat down at the guard station with a sigh. His affair with T'Pol had seemed like a miracle at first. His Vulcan lover been the closest thing to a friend that he had since his sister had died in the Xindi incursion. The aching loneliness of his empty, solitary life had pushed him deeper and deeper into her web. Then the shattering series of betrayals had come. In spite of it all, he still felt an intensly primal tug of desire when looking at her.

"You know that I can't do that, T'Pol." He looked at her closely. "If you could do anything, be anything, what would it be?"

T'Pol considered. "I would oppose the creator of this hell. I would bring the concept of IDIC to Vulcan and reconcile the Terran Empire and its alien subjects. A ruling parliament and a pan-empire elected body would be formed to replace the corrupt House of Lords. The Emperor would become a figurehead and the fleet would stop its endless, useless conquests and become the disciplined force for exploration and defense that the peoples of the Empire need to survive."

Trip snorted. "You mean take over management of the slaughterhouse and spend the rest of your life wading in blood up to your neck, trying to make a silk purse out of this sow's ear of a universe."

"The work would be very difficult, but it would be the right thing to do. What would you do?" T'Pol was beginning to regain her equilibrium. Being open to his mind caused her emotional overload to subside very quickly. She found that she could use his Human coping mechanisms to augment her own logic. Commander Tucker had a great deal of experience at coping with pain and disappointment.

He smiled dreamily and then looked away. "I'd go to New Arcadia, find a placeten thousand miles past the backside of beyond, build a snug little house and just live there." He focused on her, anger growing in his voice. "With someone that looked just like you, but that I could trust not to put the whammy on me and send me off to the god-damned agony booth whenever it was convenient."

She nodded. "An extremely attractive notion."

He exhaled in exasperation. "So then why the hell did ya have to rub it in about mindscrewing me? I only suspected."

T'Pol paused, then decided that she would never lie to him again. "I needed your anger. I could feel it burning through the bond and it served me well. Without my emotional control I would be angry too, very, very angry. I found that through you, I could access the emotion without the loss of control entailed by giving in to my emotions. I was feeding off of you."

She looked away from him. "Logic on its own is inadequate. My actions were beneath contempt. I am beneath contempt."

Tucker nodded. "None of us little ants in this ant farm are worth a shit, T'Pol. But that's the way that we were made." Tucker scowled, his intense hatred for the creator of this universe nearly overwhelming him. "Maybe we can change things now that we know what we're _supposed_ to be."

He punched the button that turned off her force screen. "Come on. We can download the Federation database and take one of _Defiant's_ heavy shuttles. They've got nearly the range and speed of an NX class. I'll set up the warp core to blow as soon as they call for weapons." He didn't give a damn what happened to Earth.

T'Pol sat, unmoving. "Where do you propose that we go?"

Tucker grinned. "Arcadia. But I want you to teach me how to avoid those mind whammys on the way."

T'Pol stood. "Done."

Tucker started to reply when Hoshi Sato's voice came over the intership, announcing her impending ascension to the imperial throne.

"Archer's dead." Tucker whitened with rage at having his plan so suddenly thwarted. He was the ranking Human officer aboard _Defiant_ now. Security was in place in Engineering and would undoubtedly pick him up on sight and confine him until he had proven his loyalty to Sato. Sato hated T'Pol and would order him to kill her as a test of his loyalty the instant that she remembered the Vulcan.

"Our plan... will fail." T'Pol felt her hearts beating heavily. As always, nothing good could exist for very long. Not even a dream.

Trip scowled. "Damn it! We'll never make it off the ship now. I knew that she was scheming with Mayweather, but this… That's it then. Archer would have lost interest eventually, but that vindictive little whore will never stop hunting us."

T'Pol closed her eyes. "We have two alternatives. We can flee to confront the Empress later or-

"Triple cross her, take over the takeover and be wading up to our necks in blood for the rest of our lives." Trip hardened himself and took her hand, pulling her close. "Open up, girl. Let ol' Charlie in for a look-see. If I'm gonna do this I've gotta be sure about who's got my back."

"Very well, if you wish to chance it." T'Pol complied, placing her hands on his face for a meld.

Tucker's face hardened. "If you mindscrew me again, just kill me afterward, T'Pol. I mean it. Quick and sudden. Don't ever let me find out."

"You have nothing to fear. My mind to your mind." T'Pol had melded with him many times to erase his memories of their casual sexual encounters. She had not wanted Captain Forrest suspecting that she had been suborned. The meld was quickly accomplished, but this time she left his perceptions alone.

He explored a little, regaining his subborned memories. In the short time they hadthey saw each other's determination to thwart the creator of this hell and make a better universe for their children to inhabit. Mentally, they pledged their loyalty to each other and their cause.

Tucker was finally satisfied. Breaking the connection, he grabbed her hand. "Come on, darlin,' Sato has to be callin' an officers meetin' about now. We'll take the jeffries tubes to auxiliary control. I already set things up so I could run the ship from there if Archer came after me." He had containment fields in place, keyed on his own private codes. From auxiliary control he would use the ship's sensors to locate and transport the security teams to the hanger deck, where their oxygen ration would be under his control. He would then cut off all but intership communications and his engineering teams would be the only organized force left on the ship.

With that nucleusto hold the ship and T'Pol securely ensconcedon the command bridge of _Defiant_, a compliment of Vulcans,just enough of them to hold the Human crew in check but not enough of the bastards to take over matters on their owncould be beamed aboard.

Then he could go to the surfaceand begin the gruesome, brutal task of reconciling the Imperial Government to his rule.

"Yes, my Emperor." T'Pol took his hand and let him lead her out of the brig.


	2. The Road to Hell

Tucker peaked around the corner, opened an access panel and then waved T'Pol through into the Jeffreys tube nexus, closing it behind them. "This ought ta throw 'em off." He saw her hobbling and frowned. "Are you okay?"

"Sato found it highly amusing to kick me when I was unable to stand." She rubbed at her torso. "I have many bruises."

Tucker nodded. Sato was that kind. "I've got some 23rd century medical gadgets stashed in auxiliary control. When we get there I'll knit those up for you in two shakes."

"Did Sato attempt to seduce you?" T'Pol's voice was absolutely flat.

Tucker laughed. "Not since she got into Forrest's bed." He shrugged at his poor taste. "I was a little bit desperate back then, T'Pol. I never felt any interest in her once you came aboard." He snorted bitterly. "I preferred the workin' girls to Sato. Some a them actually like men. Sato likes men like a cat likes mice."

T'Pol looked at him, narrow eyed. "The bond precludes any possibility of extramarital affairs."

Tucker snorted. "My face pretty much precludes them too." He frowned. "Extramarital? Where'd that come from?"

"The condition of your face is irrelevant. On Vulcan, the presence of the mating bond constitutes a legally valid marriage." She focused on him. "Vulcan law is valid except where superceded by Imperial fiat. We are in fact married under both Vulcan and Imperial law."

Trip didn't reply. He was watching the numbers on the frames. "Turn here."

T'Pol was somewhat vexed by his non-acknowledgement of their status. "The bond cannot be instituted without consent at the deepest levels of both parties."

He glared at her. "Are you sayin' that I _agreed_ to be programmed?"

T'Pol shook her head. "I abused your trust. You agreed to trust me and I played you false. I hope that someday you will come to trust me again."

Tucker looked down at his feet, remembering how easily Ruby had played him against Archer and Sorenson. "Ah'm always makin' that same stupid mistake."

T'Pol took his hand. "My regret grows."

He held on, voice husky and his accent almost unintelligibly thick. "I fell for ya all the way, T'Pol. I fell for ya like a child. I'm willin' to betray the empire, the service and my whole lousy race for ya. I have to. There's no goin' back for me. I guess I'll just have ta take whatever I can get. All I ask is that you make sure I never see it comin' if ya ever do decide against me."

T'Pol followed him down another cross corridor, feeling such anguish over her betrayal that she almost blacked out.

He smiled crookedly at her. "Now don't take on so. Everything'll be okay. Ya make me happy just by bein' with me, T'Pol. I was walkin' dead before ya came along. I never much cared what happened to me and after Liz died I didn't care about anyone else, either. I just liked warp engines an' lookin' around in space. Only now that I've got you ta fight for, all the limits are gone. I'll be Emperor, but you'll be Empress long after I'm dead, even if I gotta fill up every last graveyard with every last disagreeable sonofabitch in this whole god-damned empire."

T'Pol looked at him. "Love has killed far more than hate."

"That's right, Darlin. I love you. And the empire is in our way, so woe to them. I want ta desert, forget about the dammed empire, go off to Arcadia and rusticate with ya. We could live just like we want-

Someone started clapping.

They stopped dead at the lip of the intersection.

The hatches had been removed and Mayweather was waiting with three of his MACO's. He had them cold.

Sato stepped out from behind her bodyguards, still clapping, smiling widely. Idly running her finger along Mayweather's jaw in passing, she spoke in a tone suitable to an innocent child, "Oh, my! This is just_ so_ cute! 'Dogface' Tucker and his little subhuman girlfriend, running away to be together forever." She sighed, ostentatiously. "It's really _too _bad that I can't spare you, Tucker. I might have let you and yourpet go just for the romance factor of it all."

The coldly murderous light in her eyes as they flickered to T'Pol gave her the lie.

Deliberately, Tucker stepped in front of T'Pol, narrowing his eyes. If they shot her they would have to do it through him.

The three MACO's moved apart in a choreographed motion, to better cover the two fugitives without giving them the slightest opportunity to resist.

Mayweather relieved Trip of his phase pistol, searched him, ran his hands over T'Pol and then stepped back. There was no chance of resistance.

Sato giggled at their grim, frightened expressions, stepping forward to stroke Tucker's ruined face. Maybe she would fix him up and force him to perform as a lover, just to anger the Vulcan. It would be fun. "Oh, don't worry, Charlie. I won't hurt your precious little bondmate. Not if you cooperate like a good boy." She shot T'Pol a spiteful smirk and said in Vulcan, "You forget who I am, T'Pol. I know _everything _about the bond."

Tucker took a deep breath, trying to calm his shaking. "I'll work for you. Just let her be and I'll work harder than you'd ever believe," he begged. Tucker had no pride where the Vulcan was concerned. If Sato wanted him on his knees, on his belly or skinning babies he would do it to save T'Pol.

"I know you will, sweetie. You can't really do anything else. She's got you by the cortex, doesn't she?" She turned to Mayweather, smirking. "See? It's just like I told you. He belongs to her and now she belongs to us. We have it all! Now collect the bitch and-

In almost instantaneous succession, Mayweather and his stalwarts were blown back against the jeffry tube walls by lethally precise pistol shots. Sato had time to begin her terrified lunge away from the massacre when half of her head exploded, splashing the adjacent bulkhead red with blood and scraps of brain.

The thunder died away and Tucker spun around, ears ringing, grabbing T'Pol and thrusting her behind him. His eyes widened when the tattered figure of MACO Colonel Malcolm Reed lurched to a halt behind them, a smoking slug pistol in his hand.

Reed managed a ghastly grin at the two. "I do hope that this means you'll forgive me that little agony booth incident, Commander."

Tucker blinked, shrugged and then nodded. "Archer was the prick that ordered it. He's dead, so it's over. What the hell happened to you, Reed?"

Reed abruptly leaned against the wall, swaying. "Mayweather shot me in the back, but the fool didn't bother to make sure of me. Me! Then he compounded his error by delegating the task of getting rid of my supposed corpse. An asinine mistake. He deserved to die. I trained him better than that. Unfortunately for the late Empress, I found an emergency suit stored in the airlock, got it on before they cycled me out, made my way around the ship by handhold and came back aboard through the escape lock near my quarters." He gestured with the magnum. "I got myself a gun, visited sickbay to close up the worst of my wounds and then went out for a spot of hunting."

Tucker nodded carefully. Of course Reed had a hideout weapon that energy scans wouldn't detect. "Now that you've had your revenge, what are your plans?"

Reed slid his pistol back into its holster, smiled brightly and then saluted. "Whatever you should order, Captain. Or dare I say, Your Majesty?" His eyes took in T'Pol's proprietary grip on him. "Oh, do excuse me. Your _Majesties."_ He bowed, with perfect form.

Tucker relaxed slightly and then picked up his phaser pistol. Retrieving another from Sato's corpse, he handed it to T'Pol. "I'm gonna make a lot of changes, Reed. There isn't gonna be any more conquest. We got too many enemies already and there just isn't any limit to how many are out there. All that stupid bullshit is over. I don't want you behind me if you can't live with it."

Reed waved the argument away. "A reformer. Excellent! There will be plenty of work for me." He smiled at T'Pol, a smile that lit his entire face. On anyone else that happy, knowing smile would have been attractive. On Reed, it was absolutely satanic. "That's all that really matters to me, Captain. The work."

Tucker nearly gave in to his impulse and shot him on the spot, but T'Pol grabbed his arm.

"Thy'ala. We need him." She looked at the smiling monster that had just pledged his loyalty and managed not to shudder.

Trip nodded. "We need to get to auxiliary control. Do you think that you can make it?"

Malcolm's smile widened. "Of course! I brought a flesh knitter and a few other useful devices with me from sickbay." He gestured at T'Pol's sliced face and numerous bruises. "If you wish, I can heal those wounds like they never happened, Empress. If you would then condescend to run this device over my back where I can't reach, we'll be fixed up Bristol fashion and ready for the big do!"

Tucker regarded him, and then nodded. Picking up a fallen phase pistol, he stuck it in his belt and handed the sleek 23rd century weapon to Reed. Reed could use it better than anyone that Tucker had ever heard of. "I'll need you to cover me, Reed. We'll collect the rest of the MACO's later."

Reed's pleased smile as he took the weapon suddenly turned cold. "Oh, don't worry about them, Captain. They'll be eager to obey me, once they hear that I'm alive." He would slaughter a few of the useless ones to put the rest into a proper state of mind.

Trip paced back and forth along the catwalk making eye contact with as many of his crewmen as he could while he addressed his engineering division. They were drawn up at attention in the shuttlebay.

"I'm not goin' along with Sato's little rebellion. She's crazy, mean as cat piss and wouldn't be worth a damn as empress. She'd be playin' grab ass games right up until the enemy fleet scoured earth bare. I got no need to end up as a Romulan or Klingon slave and I wouldn't want to see our folks livin' under an alien boot."

He paused to let them think that one over. They all looked nervously at the vid pickups. "It don't signify anyway, on account of the fact that she's dead. So's Mayweather and the rest of those god dammed traitors of his. That leaves me as senior Imperial officer aboard and as such I'm assumin' command. Anyone want ta dispute that fact?"

Tucker waited, but there was nothing but a general relaxation. His hand was the only part of him that relaxed, moving casually from where it had been hanging next to his phase pistol.

"Ah'm appointin' Commander T'Pol as my second officer. Some of you don't like Vulcans. Well, tough shit. Some Vulcan's don't like you, either. What matters is that she's loyal to me and any orders that she gives you are _my_ orders. Keep that in mind. If you do your duty and follow her orders, you and me won't have any problem."

He surveyed them, feeling a surge of confidence. His people had always been loyal. He could pull it off. "We got a hard row to hoe, people. Archer and Sato stirred things up back home, big time. His Majesty and half of the Admiralty are dead. Seems like all the vipers came out from under their rocks and bit at once when Sato offered them her 'leadership.' Now there's riots everywhere, cities burnin,' fleet units firin' on each other and enemies watchin' the whole thing, lookin' to move in on us. Archer and his bitch crippled Earth good."

He surveyed them, seeing interest and in a few cases, comprehension and dawning awareness.

"Things are bad, ladies and gents. The Lords are mostly hidin' out like the worthless scum they are. Well, they can stay hid for all I care. Far as I'm concerned, every last one a them is a deserter. The only good news is that the loyal units of the fleet took up a defensive position around the Solar System. Too bad there aren't enough of them. If Earth got jumped now, only _Defiant_ could save the day. It's all up to us to pull this out. The government is in pieces and no one else is steppin' up to fix it." Tucker narrowed his eyes. "So I'm gonna be assumin' command of the whole shebang as of right now."

There was an interested murmur and some excited shifting of feet. It wasn't every day that you got an opportunity like this.

"This is the deal, boys. I'm settin' up for Emperor. You all know that I'm an easy goin' boss and that I'm not too greedy or full of beans. I'm given' you all the chance to keep on workin' for me and for yourselves. Keep things together on Defiant, follow T'Pol's orders and all will be well. Any man that stands with me here and now to help save the Empire will earn himself a hell of a lot of glory as well as nice _fat_ share of the profits." These crewmen would be prime recipients of the loot that he squeezed out of the Lords when he broke them for desertion and abolished the institution.

"The Emperor is dead! Long live the Emperor! Hail the Emperor! Hail Emperor Tucker!" Cortina's excited voice was the first and loudest, but by no means the last. Tucker was hard as nails, but not cold. You could actually talk to the man. As officers went he was reasonable and best of all, everyone there knew that he would reward them with unimaginable wealth as Emperor.

The cry spread, each trying to show maximum enthusiasm. "Death to the traitors! Hail the Emperor!"

Charles Tucker the Third smiled. Engineering was his, as it had always been. The plan could work.

T'Pol had demanded that these particular Vulcans be shuttled to _Defiant_ from the various ships and stations of the Imperial Terran naval forces remaining in the Solar System. There had been no resistance. None of the local commanders had wanted to test_ Defiant's_ patience or her enormous phaser banks.

Each Vulcan was well known to her, a member of the illicit meditation groups that Vulcans serving in the fleet maintained in the face of overwhelming Human apathy.

"It would be more logical to seize Defiant and enforce these proposed reforms on the Humans at cannon point." Soran managed to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but the rest of the Vulcans could tell.

Sonol shook his head. "I do not believe that this vessel could hold down the Humans indefinitely. To carry out that plan, we would eventually be forced to eradicate life on Earth. Human ships would be quick to retaliate in kind againstour worlds."

"You have lost your perspective, Soran." T'Pol paused, using a Human rhetorical technique to increase their tension. "Have you forgotten how and why our people became a political subdivision of the Terran Empire?"

"We were betrayed." Soran narrowed his eyes. "The Humans lied."

"Betrayed? Lied?" T'Pol raised an eyebrow. "It was we who attacked the Andorans, our false logic prompting us to take advantage of their perceived weakness. The Humans did not compel us, nor did they mislead us as to the price of their assistance when the full extent of our folly became clear. Twenty percent of the Vulcan biosphere ceased to exist in the first Andoran counterstroke. We lost seventy percent of our colonial holdings and virtually all of our orbital industrial capacity within the first ten days of the war."

"Our remaining worlds have survived largely untouched, but the Humans have treated our people contemptuously." T'Rir stated it as a fact.

"The High Command acted contemptibly." Sonal was a great one for stating the obvious. "The Humans conquered Andor with ease. They do not respect our military capability."

"The Humans took advantage of previous Vulcan military achievement as well as our technology retrofits to gain their victory." Soran was obstinate. "We have no obligation toward them."

"They adapt quickly. Their adaptability saved the Andoran and Vulcan species from their suicidal folly and from later annihilation at the hands of the Klingon conquest fleet. That fleet still exists, waiting. They will attack the instant that they sense weakness." T'Pol fixed each Vulcan with a stare. "We cannot defeat our enemies without the Humans. You have each begun to study the kirshara. Do you accept its precepts?"

"I do." Soron closed his eyes, centering himself. "I am afraid. My fear drives me to embrace violence. The Humans are a terrifying species."

Lesu stood. "We must cast out our fear. The Humans are indeed formidable, but by no means invulnerable." He looked closely at T'Pol. "I have had positive experience with many individual Humans. Captain McGregor is a fine captain, an honorable man and an inspiring leader. If their governmental systems were reformed to allow such men to advance then there would be little to find objectionable. If our people were guaranteed full civil status, adequate governmental representation and equity in law with the Humans then I would see no viable alternative to continuing the Vulcan association with the Terran Empire."

T'Prin stood. "Have you bonded Commander Tucker, T'Pol?" Her voice was a whip-crack.

There was dead silence as the Vulcans fixed T'Pol with empty, calculating eyes. T'Pol would be the true Imperial power if that was the case.

T'Pol avoided the cold emptiness that her former training inspired, instead casting out her fear of rejection and apprehending the emotional content of her thinking without letting it color her logic. "I have. He is aware of that fact."

T'Prin continued her interrogation. "Will the Humans object to their Emperor having an alien consort? Their revenge could be terrible."

T'Pol clasped her hands behind her back. "The fleet will be taught a new discipline. The Human populations will object only if they are misruled. The status of our bond is irrelevant to this discussion." She raised her chin, fixing T'Prin with her eyes. "My proper title among the Humans shall be 'Empress."

There was a long moment of shocked silence.

T'Prin dropped to one knee, switching to Old High Golic. "I offer thee loyalty and the allegiance of my clan, Revered Matriarch."

The others hurried to swear. After the century long interregnum that had followed the usurpation by the former High Command, Vulcan had a Matriarch again.


End file.
